


Ten A'Penny

by MithrilWren



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Fantasy High
Genre: F/F, Internalized Homophobia, One-Sided Adaine Abernant/Ayda Aguefort, One-Sided Adaine Abernant/Figeroth Faeth, Pining, Repression, figuring out sexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MithrilWren/pseuds/MithrilWren
Summary: There are times she catches herself in a loop, over and over, different words than the ones she used to know. When she was younger, it might have been ‘stupid, sostupid’or ‘do better, be better, try harder this time’. Now it’s the same thing, over and over and over again, in a cycle that even the meds can’t break.(I love her, I love her, I love her-)(but not like that)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 44





	Ten A'Penny

**Author's Note:**

> A quick little fic, my first for Fantasy High, because before the enormous goodness that is Fig/Ayda, I couldn't help but feeling a panging for both Adaine/Fig and Adaine/Ayda. I'm actually not caught up on Fantasy High Live yet, so I'd appreciate that if you leave a comment, please no spoilers about anything past Hellbound!

_There are times she catches herself in a loop, over and over, different words than the ones she used to know. When she was younger, it might have been ‘stupid, so_ stupid’ _or ‘do better, be better, try harder this time’. Now it’s the same thing, over and over and over again, in a cycle that even the meds can’t break._

_(I love her, I love her, I love her-)_

_(but not like that)_

* * *

Ayda says, “We are best friends,”

Adaine responds, “We are best friends,” and worries, when she has the presence of mind to think through the matter properly. 

_This is how it started, before._

* * *

They’re picking out rooms today. Adaine has the tower - a classic wizard’s choice. Isolation, peace and quiet, and friendly faces downstairs whenever she wants them. It’s the perfect compromise.

Fig takes the living room. A central space - unavoidable. 

Adaine doesn’t want to avoid her.

She wonders, up in her tower, with books spread across each knee and a pencil in her mouth, which of the secret passages goes that way. Which one she would have to take, to reach-

And bites down hard, and goes back to work, lead painting her wicked tongue grey all the while.

They’re leaving soon, like Aguefort said, and then she won’t have to worry about it anymore.

* * *

She could talk to Kristen. She knows she could. She could ask, and Kristen would answer, in far more detail than she ever wanted. Or Tracker, maybe, but Adaine is closer to Kristen, so it would be more appropriate to ask her. 

(As if there’s anything _appropriate_ about this.)

But Adaine watches Kristen and Tracker together, always together, attached at the hip _together,_ and loses her nerve every time. 

They make it look so easy. And she knows, she _knows_ that Kristen took time to get there, but she’s so sure now. She’s so sure, and Adaine is… not.

If this is really what she feels, shouldn’t it be easier, at least to _know?_

(The meds are working, so why doesn’t she feel better by now?)

* * *

It was easier, before. When Fig came home with cherry-stained lips from the mouths of middle-aged men, at least then there was a reason for Adaine to stay silent. She knew the type of person Fig liked to kiss, Adaine would never have a beer gut or a moustache or a six-figure salary, tied up in pension plans and gambling habits on the side. 

Then Fig starts coming home with burnt lips, and scorched cheeks, and red skin made redder by the fire that held it close, promising things like ‘love’ and ‘girlfriends’ and ‘when we get married, someday’. 

And Adaine can’t pretend anymore, that it was Fig who was the reason it never would have worked. 

* * *

They’re a good team, her and Riz. They have the same priorities: clues, knowledge, the scientific method. He proposes a question and she answers it, or vice versa, and they find the answers twice as quick. She likes him. She likes spending time with him.

She _likes_ him. 

And so every moment together becomes an investigation, only it’s her body that holds the clues.

When he looks at her, does her heart race? No, but she’s not disgusted either. When he claps her on the shoulder in excitement - or the back, where he can reach more easily - does she shy away from the touch? No, and isn’t that progress? She couldn’t handle people touching her, before. That’s a sign, surely.

When they’re sleepy together, lying side by side and worn out from another mental marathon, and she turns her head - does she want to kiss him?

No.

No, _no-_

But you can be attracted to someone and not want to kiss them. Maybe what she feels is deeper than that. So deep, she can’t find any evidence of it… yet.

More investigation is still needed, clearly.

* * *

They’re a good team, her and Ayda.

In the Synod, they while away the time together. Which is to say, they put the time to its highest and best use. Spellbooks lie open between them, instead of on Adaine’s knees - shared, for the first time in her life, and look how much progress they’re making. Soon, they’ll have developed three new spells, jointly. What will they call the latest? Aberfort’s Dream Dimension? Augenant’s Wising Window? Adayda’s Portent? 

See, no matter how you spin it, their names fit so well together. They both like the symmetry. Symmetry is what makes the world make sense. 

That’s another reason they’re a good team. They help each other make sense of the world, that so often confuses the both of them.

When the books are away, Ayda talks about Fig. Fig this and Fig that, and Adaine always tries to call her attention back to their work, when she can, so she doesn’t have to watch the way Ayda _smoulders_ when she talks about Fig - how her eyes flash in time with her hair, how sparks dance on her fingertips, how she glows so much brighter than Adaine’s own dull flaxen appearance. 

Because she’s jealous. She can admit that much, by now. She’s just lost track of who she’s jealous of.

Ayda says, “We are best friends,” and Adaine thinks, _I love you, I love you, I love you-_

And because they are best friends - she knows how to be _best friends,_ that’s all she’s _ever_ known _-_ Adaine says nothing at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [mithrilwren](https://mithrilwren.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!


End file.
